In
recent years they had been called "bullies", and schools
were now making every effort to control this kind of behavior. But
students who wanted to dominate others by constantly tormenting them
have been around as long as schools had been in existence.

It
had been fifty-nine years since the Old Lady first set foot in her new
private girls' school. She had entered the seventh grade as the
tallest girl at five feet four inches. When the class ended nine months
later, she was five feet ten inches tall. She would finish the eighth
grade at more than six feet two inches.

The
three girls started tormenting her about her size. They would wait
for her in in the hallway, follow her into the bathroom, mumble as
she passed them in the classroom. "Five feet
nine--Frankenstein", they would chant in unison. The comment
hurt deeply because she knew that they had no idea she was five and a
half inches taller than that.

She
fought back once or twice. The teachers told her that she was using
her size to gain an advantage, and that this was not acceptable
behavior. She never complained again. The girls had a field day
until graduation six years later.

What
happened in high school had not been a precursor of the future. The
three girls had married young but she had eventually earned a law
degree and practiced law in two states. At all times, her height put
her on the same level as male peers. She was respected and she was
allowed to fight back. It was her job.

Then
they were there again, at her twenty-fifth year high school reunion.
Susan
boasted that she had married an attorney, Mr. Solicitor standing
stiffly by her side. (Wow! Big deal! I AM AN ATTORNEY) Marcia and
Joan offered nothing in personal accomplishments, basing their lives
on the successes of their husbands and their roles in supporting
them.

That
day, as the three women whispered together in the corner of the room,
she finally had enough. She decided to kill them all, but not right
away.

Twenty-five
more years would pass before she retired. She was old now, but she
reminded herself that the Frankenstein Monsters were old too, as
well. It was time to follow through on the promise she had made to
herself.

She
had skipped the fiftieth high school reunion because she did not want
them to recognize her before she exterminated them.

Now
she fashioned a plan which would allow her to kill them and escape
detection. To that end, she decided that she would spread out the
carnage and take them out over an extended period of time, no less
than three years. Each kill would involve a trip from California
where she lived, to the Seattle Washington area. She would have
preferred
to travel by plane but this would not allow her to bring the pistol. If
she drove her personal car, the vehicle might be seen by a
witness. It had been so easy for the three of them to taunt and
torment her. It was not going to be easy to eliminate them without
paying a heavy price.

Susan

Classmates.com
had provided all of the necessary information. The Old Lady now had
Susan's married name, address, telephone number, the names of those
with whom she shared her residence, even her hobbies.

The
Old Lady called her nephew in Ellensburg, WA, telling him that she
was arriving for a one day visit. In fact she would travel first to
Seattle, take care of business, and then drive east to see her
relative.

She
left early for the trip north which would be uneventful. The weather
was neither too hot nor too cold and around 4:00 p.m. she arrived at
the car rental office in Tacoma, WA, thirty miles south of Seattle.
Before leaving in the rental, she carefully parked her car in the
lot, removing the pistol, a man's jacket, and a baseball cap. She
spent the night in a Tacoma motel.

Susan's
neighborhood had not awakened for the day when the rental cruised
slowly down the street The driver appeared to be a grey haired man
looking for a street address. When the house was located, the Old
Lady parked a distance away pretending to read a newspaper, but in
fact watching for anyone leaving the house. She was soon rewarded.

The
brown sedan backed slowly down the driveway. Upon reaching the
street, the vehicle turned away and proceeded out of the area. The
Old Lady followed at a discreet distance until the car pulled into a
mall parking lot. The driver, an elderly lady, disappeared into the
Starbuck's Coffee Shop.

The
Old Lady backed the rental into the space next to the driver's side
of the brown vehicle, and waited, leaving the rental's engine
running. When the driver returned, the Old Lady said, "Susan, I
think we went to high school together." Susan's eyes narrowed
as she took two tentative steps forward. "What's your name?",
she asked. "Five feet nine--Frankenstein", the Old Lady
responded.

The
surprise on Susan's face was torn away by the bullet.

The
Old Lady was careful to take advantage of the momentary confusion by
driving away slowly as if the problem were elsewhere. She was soon
on the highway back to Tacoma where she would return the rental and
reclaim her own vehicle. That afternoon she arrived at her nephew's
place for a pleasant visit.

She
followed the case in the Seattle papers by reading about it on the
internet. The police had gone back 20 years digging into Susan's
background. The victim was clean, no enemies, no lovers, no
addictions, no money problems, no family problems. They had
concluded that the shooting was the random act of a mentally
disturbed person.

Marcia

After
one year the case was no longer in the newspapers. It was time for
the Old Lady to eliminate Marcia. The first killing had worked so
well, she decided to use the same approach.

She
notified her nephew of another impending visit. They got along well
and both enjoyed a few hours together. Soon after, she drove north
to take care of business.

Marcia
lived in a neighborhood which was not as upscale. The Old Lady's
information indicated that Marcia lived alone, so when she did not
emerge from her house after two hours, the "man" in the
baseball cap pulled up in front and rang the doorbell. At this hour,
employed adults and schoolchildren would be out of the neighborhood.
When Marcia opened the door a crack, the Old Lady acted quickly. Five
feet nine--Frankenstein", she said, and then she fired. In
an instant, confusion filled Marcia's face. Then she lost her face
to the bullet, and dropped like a stone.

The
Old Lady drove carefully out of the area, rejoining highway traffic. In
a few hours she had returned the rental and she was in her own car
driving east.

At
home the Old Lady again followed the news stories in Seattle papers
by using the internet. This time a stay at home mother had looked
out her front window after hearing gunfire. The woman told the
police about the “man in the baseball cap, a tall man, who had
driven away in a beige car”. She provided details and the
police had generated a poster drawing of the suspect.

The
Old Lady studied the picture of the “wanted man” with a
mixture of amusement and invulnerability. The irony of using her
height to adopt a male disguise, did not escape her. "She was
going to pull this off", she thought.

Joan

Now
she drove north, but this time she would use a different rental
company and lease a dark colored vehicle.

The
information the Old Lady had, indicated that Joan was active in the
local Catholic Church. She was waiting outside as the early morning
Mass discharged the churchgoers. Joan was soon spotted, walking
slowly toward her residential neighborhood.

Pulling
alongside in a maroon sedan, the Old Lady rolled down the window and
said, "I think we went to high school together. My name is
Frankenstein, and I'm five feet nine." Recognition flooded the
still beautiful face. A bullet ended the conversation.

It
was almost over. The world felt like a cleaner place now because the
Frankenstein Monsters were gone. She had absolutely no pity for any
of them. They deserved to be dead, and she had made them "dead". She
had thrown the jacket and baseball cap in a rest stop dumpster. The
pistol was hidden under the spare tire in the trunk. In a few
hours she would be visiting with her nephew.

The
highway east was a four lane road through the Cascade Mountains. As
she drove, the weather became cloudy and overcast. It began to snow.
She was not particularly worried for she had made the trip dozens of
times over the years. Time and again her mind wandered back over the
shootings, a smile crossing and recrossing her face. She never saw
the semi sliding sideways in her direction, out of control.

Epilogue: Someone
phoned a tip into the Seattle police that all three of the
victims had attended the same high school and they had graduated in
the same class. At that point, the cops realized that they had not
gone back far enough into their backgrounds. Try as they might, they
were never able to link the man in the baseball cap to any of the
victims, though they were sure such a link existed.